Thunderbolt over Texas Read online

  He was shirtless. His feet were bare. And the button at the top of his clean jeans was undone, revealing a flash of skin below his washboard abs.

  “Sorry.” She put up her hand to forestall the collision and it came flat against his chest.

  His fingers closed over her elbow to steady her and his thighs brushed up against hers.

  “You okay?” he asked

  She nodded, her heart skipping double-time. This was one good-looking cowboy. He looked great in his clothes, but out of them… Hoo, boy.

  He reached over and shut off the burner.

  Then his hand came up to cover hers, pressing it into his chest. His skin was warm and smooth. She could feel his heart thudding against his rib cage.

  Her fingers made out the ridge of a horizontal scar. It was an uneven gash, three inches long, and she wondered what had happened.

  From the little she’d seen of his life, she knew it was rough and physical. But what had caused this? And what other secrets were there on the body she’d admired for two days?

  Before she could voice a question, their gazes met. His eyes turned a deep, ocean blue, and she inhaled his scent, marveling at how familiar it had become.

  He slowly reached out to stroke her hair. Sensations washed over her like warm rain, and she longed to lean into him and absorb the full warmth of his strength. She held his gaze instead, finding flecks of gray among the storm-tossed blue. His look was turbulent, challenging.

  He dipped his head ever so slightly. Then he stopped and his eyelids came down in a long blink.

  “Is it just me?” he asked, refocusing. “Or is this a really stupid idea?”

  She couldn’t stop the slow, sultry smile that grew on her face. “It is a really stupid idea…”

  His lips parted. “But…”

  “Have we ever let that stop us before?”

  Four

  Cole was going to kiss this woman.

  Stupid decisions were his stock-in-trade around her, and he saw no reason to give that up now.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said in all honesty, brushing the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

  “So are you,” she responded.

  He grinned at that, sliding spread fingers through the thickness of her hair.

  To his surprise, she rocked forward and placed a hot, moist kiss on his chest.

  He sucked in a tight breath, and she kissed him again, her soft lips searing into his skin. It took a second to realize she was tracing the scar on his breastbone. She was kissing away his pain, soothing what was once a gaping wound, calming a memory he’d sworn he’d have to fight forever.

  His hands convulsed and he tilted her head, searching her eyes for the reason behind her caring touch. What he saw was smoky jade and simmering passion.

  Lightning exploded in the sky above them. Rain crashed down on the shake roof and clattered against the window-panes. The oak trees creaked and the willows rustled as the wind whipped the world into a frenzy.

  That same storm swirled to life inside him. He couldn’t wait another second to taste her lips. He dipped to capture them, touching, tasting, savoring. They were as lush as he’d imagined, but sweeter, more giving, the perfect shape and size and pressure.

  He kissed her again, this time pulling her soft body against his, opening wide, praying she’d follow suit. His skin was on fire and his chest tightened with a deep longing.

  She parted her lips and a small moan escaped. The sound tugged at him, surrounded him, buried itself deep inside him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on tight.

  He inhaled her scent, wishing the moment could go on and on. He wanted to close his eyes, block out the world, lose himself in her, pretend nothing existed outside their cocoon.

  But that was impossible.

  The world did exist. The world of Kyle and Katie and the Thunderbolt. He slowly pulled back.

  Her face was flushed and her eyes were glazed.

  He suspected he looked exactly the same way.

  She rubbed his chest and eased off with a deep breath. “Guess it’s good to get that out of the way,” she said.

  “Our first kiss?”

  She nodded, her gaze fixed somewhere below his neck. “Yeah. Could have been awkward in front of Katie.”

  “I’ll say.” He stepped back, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Now at least I’ll know what to expect.”

  “Me, too.”

  “So it wasn’t such a stupid idea after all.”

  “I think it was quite brilliant.”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Brilliant.” He took a tight breath. “I’m, uh…” He gestured vaguely toward his bedroom door then escaped quickly and grabbed a clean shirt, stuffing his arms into the sleeves.

  Brilliant was just the word. Brilliant. Now he wouldn’t be able to look at her without getting aroused.

  When he returned to the living room she was curled up in the armchair again with a pen and paper in her hands.

  “We should talk logistics,” she said.

  Cole’s steps faltered.

  Maybe her mood could shift one-eighty in the blink of an eye, but he needed a few minutes to recover. He made a show of securing his buttons and tucking the shirt into his waistband, before he dropped down onto the couch and met her eyes.

  “What have you got so far?” he asked, struggling to get back on an even keel, trying to ignore that fact that she was wearing his clothing.

  She tucked her auburn hair behind one ear. It was beautiful even when it was wet.

  “How fast do you think we can pull this off?” she asked.

  “Why? You in a hurry?”

  She glanced up in surprise. “Yes. I’ve got a whole display to coordinate. Dozens of pieces.”

  “I don’t think Katie’s going to buy love at first sight.”

  “I didn’t mean this afternoon. It’ll take a couple weeks to prepare the gallery.”

  “A whole two weeks?”

  “Probably a little more.”

  Cole tamped down his annoyance at her business-like approach. They’d shared one kiss. Nothing had changed. There was still nothing more to their relationship than a commercial transaction.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He neutralized his expression.

  “You sure?”

  “What could be wrong?”

  She nodded. “Okay. Where’s the Thunderbolt now?”

  “In a lawyer’s safe in Wichita Falls.”

  “Can we get it?”

  “Not until after the wedding.”

  Sydney nodded again. “I’m going to need to make a few calls.”

  “Kyle has a land line at the house. So does Grandma.” You couldn’t pick up a cell signal in the Valley.

  “You don’t have a phone?”

  Cole shrugged. “I only moved in after Kyle and Katie got married. Haven’t updated much.”

  “No problem.” Sydney flipped the page. “Okay. So what’s our next move with Katie?”

  “You might not want to takes notes on that.”

  “Why?”

  He raised a brow.

  “Oh. Right. We don’t want to leave an evidence trail.”

  “Rain’s stopping,” Cole noted. “How about I drive you back to her place and you can wax poetic about me for a while?”

  A slow smile grew on Sydney’s face and Cole relaxed for the first time since the kiss.

  “Let me see…” She began counting off on her fingers. “You are a good-looking guy. Smart, funny and oh—” She snapped her fingers and laughed. “I can tell her you’re sexy.”

  Cole wasn’t sure how to take that. Was Sydney saying she thought he was sexy, or that she was willing to lie about it? He couldn’t ask. It would sound stupid. And there was no logical reason for him to care.

  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she meant it.

  When Katie found out Sydney was still checked into the hotel in Wichita Falls, she offered to drive her in to pick
up her suitcase. The rental car was down for the count, and it was looking as though they’d need a tow truck to retrieve it. Exorbitantly expensive, but the drive alone with Katie seemed like a perfect opportunity to go all moony-eyed over Cole.

  Not that it was such a huge stretch. That man could kiss like there was no tomorrow. She still got a little flushed thinking about it. In fact, she was hoping for an excuse to do it again. Soon.

  The next morning, Katie’s pickup truck bumped over the ruts of the ranch’s access road.

  “That’s Grandma’s house at the top of the hill,” she said. “Kyle and Cole’s dad grew up there. Kyle and Cole, too, for a while. But after the boys were born, their dad built the house where we live now.”

  “Cole mentioned his parents had died.”

  Katie nodded, gearing down to negotiate a series of potholes. “Light plane crash.”

  “Oh, no.” A pain flashed through Sydney’s chest, her mind going back to the horrible day when she’d learned her own parents had been killed in a house fire.

  “Cole was in the plane,” Katie continued. “He was the only one who lived.”

  “Was he all right?”

  “Cuts, bruises, broken ribs. He was really lucky.”

  “But he lost his parents.” And he had at least one scar to remind him. She was glad now she hadn’t asked him about it.

  Katie nodded again, keeping her gaze fixed on the road. “He’s a good man, Sydney.”

  “I know he is.”

  “He’s been through a lot.”

  “Yes, he has.” Sydney understood better than most the horrible pain of losing your parents.

  Katie cleared her throat. “I can understand…”

  Sydney turned to try to gauge the odd tone of Katie’s voice.

  “I can understand that you might be tempted to, uh, romance the brooch from under—”

  “Katie!”

  “I’m not judging you. I have a sense of how important it is.”

  “I would never—”

  “Like I said, I’m not judging. Women make choices all the time.” Katie glanced at Sydney, a mixture of pain and awkwardness in her eyes. “I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

  Sydney frantically shook her head. “I’ve been completely honest and up-front with Cole.”

  “I saw how he looked at you.”

  “And I like him, too, Katie.” Sydney’s stomach clenched with guilt.

  “He’s falling for you.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Sydney had to remind herself that she was being honest with Cole. She wasn’t conning him, and she wouldn’t hurt him.

  “I don’t know where this is going,” she told Katie honestly. “But I won’t lie to him about my feelings. I promise you.”

  “He’s a good man,” Katie said in a quiet voice.

  “He’s a very good man,” Sydney agreed. “And he’s lucky to have you.”

  Katie cracked a small smile.

  Sydney reached out and touched her shoulder. “I’m serious, Katie. You are a terrific sister-in-law. Cole knows full well that I want the Thunderbolt. If anything happens between us, we’ll both go into it with our eyes wide open.”

  Katie wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, giving Sydney a watery smile. “So, you think there might be a chance for the two of you?”

  Sydney took a deep breath, turning back to the wind-shield as she chose her words. “I think Cole and I are going to have a very interesting relationship.”

  Sydney’s answers must have satisfied Katie, because at the end of the day, Katie suggested stopping at her grandmother’s for dinner. She said Saturday night was traditionally for family, and a perfect opportunity for Sydney to meet Grandma.

  Cole had warned Sydney that his grandma was an incorrigible matchmaker, and that she’d go for broke the minute she laid eyes on Sydney. So Sydney was prepared for anything.

  What she got was a sharp, funny, sweet-natured, little woman in a floppy hat and bright gardening gloves with a dream of a period house. Circa 1940, it had an octagonal entry hall, with an archway that led to a living room, while another doorway led to what looked like the master bedroom.

  The wallpaper was yellowed and russet tiles were faded with age. But the wood trim shone with a dark patina and the leaded windows were definitely original.

  “Your home is beautiful,” Sydney said to Grandma, peering into the living room. The couch and armchair were burgundy, looped brocade, dotted with doilies that Sydney would bet Cole’s grandmother had crocheted herself.

  Grandma glanced around. “Never thought of it as beautiful before.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” said Sydney, smiling at the incongruous wide-screen television and the personal computer perched on an antique, rolltop desk. Oh, how she’d love to check her e-mail.

  “Sydney’s here to visit for a few days,” said Katie. “She’s interested in the Thunderbolt of the North.”

  Sydney stole a quick glance at Katie, trying to decide if she was giving Grandma a subtle warning about her possible motives.

  “Have to marry Cole to get the Thunderbolt,” said Grandma as she led the way through the living room.

  “So I understand,” said Sydney.

  They passed into a second octagonal hallway in the middle of the house, and then through a doorway to the kitchen at the back.

  “Good news is that he’s available,” said Grandma.

  “You know, he told me that himself.”

  Grandma looked back and cocked her head. “Did he, now?”

  Sydney nodded.

  The older woman smiled. She took a blue enamel kettle out of a painted cupboard and filled it with water from the deep, old-fashioned sink. “From New York, you say?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like it here in Texas?”

  “So far I’m having a wonderful time.”

  “That’s good.” Grandma nodded her head. “Cole’s mother passed away, you know.”

  “Katie told me about that.”

  “His dad, too. My Neil.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “Well, I’m still here. And I’ve always figured that meant I’ve still got a job to do with one wayward grandson.”

  Sydney grinned, assuming she was in for the full court press. “You mean Cole or Kyle?”

  “Cole, of course.” Grandma paused. “You want to help me?” Then a split second later she gestured to a bowl of freshly picked blueberries so that the question could be interpreted either way.

  “I’d love to help.” Sydney was ready to give her all on both fronts.

  “Good!” Grandma winked. “You can wash the berries. Katie, you get down a mixing bowl.”

  Katie opened a high cupboard and retrieved a large stoneware bowl. “Grandma’s scones are renowned in this part of Texas.”

  “Recipe is a family secret,” said Grandma. “Handed down from generation to generation.”

  “Can’t wait to try them,” said Sydney, pushing up the sleeves of her shirt.

  “Grandma?” Katie ventured. “Why don’t you explain to Sydney why the Thunderbolt goes to the wives?”

  “I’ll do that,” said Grandma with a nod.

  Katie turned to waggle an eyebrow at Sydney. “I love this story.”

  “Near as I can figure,” said Grandma, scooping into a tin flour canister, “it started around the middle of the fourteenth century.”

  Sydney was instantly riveted. There was nothing she liked better than family lore. As far as she was concerned, stories were as important as antiquities.

  “The family went through a streak of good-for-nothing eldest sons,” Grandma continued. “Worry was, if the young scoundrels got control of the Thunderbolt, they’d sell it for wenches and ale.”

  Sydney ran some water over the blueberries.

  “Old Hendrik wanted to make sure they earned their money the Viking way,” said Grandma, her practiced hands cutting a block of butter into the flour mixture. “By raiding and pillaging.”
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  Sydney longed for a pen. She’d have to ask permission, of course, but she’d love to write this down for the museum.

  “So, that’s why Cole can’t get the Thunderbolt until his wedding?” Sydney worked the stubby green stems off the berries.

  “Can’t have Cole going after ale and wenches,” said Grandma with a wink and a sparkling smile.

  “Do you have a lot of stories?” asked Sydney.

  “Some,” said Grandma.

  “I’d love to hear them.”

  “And I love to talk. We’ll get along just fine.”

  Grandma opened a drawer beneath the counter and pulled out a wooden rolling pin. “Berries ready?”

  Sydney quickly turned her attention to the bowl, picking out the last of the stems, draining the water. Then she rolled the blueberries onto a clean towel.

  “So, what do you say?” asked Grandma. “You willing to give my grandson a go?”

  The front door slammed. “Grandma?” called Cole.

  Grandma winked at Sydney again as she rolled out a round of dough. “That man needs a strong, intelligent woman,” she stage-whispered.

  Cole sauntered into the kitchen. “There you are.” He gave his grandma a hug. He nodded to Katie. Then he clasped Sydney around the shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. Good compromise.

  “How was the trip?” he asked.

  “Bought a Stetson and some blue jeans,” said Sydney, finding it ridiculously easy to act excited about Cole’s presence.

  “Can’t wait to see them.” He dropped his arm from her shoulders and turned back to his grandma. “Need anything from the garden?”

  “Potatoes and carrots,” she answered.

  “Want to help?” he asked Sydney.

  “Sure.”

  Cole strode for the kitchen door, opening it and motioning for her to go first.

  As she crossed the back deck to the stairs, she took in the spectacular panorama. She could see the roof of Cole’s cabin, the winding creek, the blue-green lake and Katie and Kyle’s house on a distant hill. Evergreens on the mountain ridges spiked up to a crackling turquoise sky.